


Lost Without You

by mcnbirdsgirl



Category: Chinese Actor RPF, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Heavy Angst, Justice, M/M, Married Couple, Murder, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad Ending, Stabbing, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:06:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29977107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcnbirdsgirl/pseuds/mcnbirdsgirl
Summary: Sasaengs. Crazy fans. They’re everywhere.There is no escape. But they're inside their safe space, their home. No one can get them here. Right?
Relationships: Wang Yi Bo/Xiao Zhan | Sean
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	Lost Without You

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Just a few points to preface this work of fiction:  
> 1) I ADORE these two men. This is not intended as a hate-fic or a wish for the contents to be truth. It is FICTION only.  
> 2) I'm a 'what if...' person. This story came about after I read lots of lovely fanfics with happy endings. My brain said "what if..." and then wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it.  
> 3) I haven't written anything in about 10 years. These two actors and their character portrayal in The Untamed have inspired me immensely.  
> 4) I am not Chinese nor have I been involved in any Chinese funeral rites before. The content in this story is a result of a few hours of googling, so I apologise in advance if this is inaccurate.
> 
> Comments and constructive feedback is always appreciated, but please don't flame me. I honestly do love these two, and I would probably die from heartbreak if anything like this happened to either of them. Also comment if there's any tags you feel should be there that I may have missed

Tinnitus. That’s what he is reminded of. The constant whine, steady in pitch, never ending. His mind is like a fog, and his throat is tight. His eyes are glazed over, unfocused and unseeing, blind to the movement around him. His body is cold and unfeeling, no longer under his command. All his senses are numb. Disengaged.

“Mr Wang…?” The sound is muted, like it is being shouted through a pillow. A warm hand placed on his shoulder makes his head turn in the same direction. The man is dressed in a standard issue police officer uniform.  _ Why are the police here? _ The thought comes unbidden and unwanted. His mind blocks it quickly, unwilling to provide an answer. 

“Is there anyone we should call?” The voice is slow, muffled. He feels his head shake from side to side but he can't be sure of this.

He can't remember what happened next. The room he was in, with it’s dull peach coloured decor, mismatched chairs and the faint odour of disinfectant in the air, changes. 

He’s now at home. Their home. Their warm, comfortable, shared space where they lived, where they breathed, where they slept, where they loved…

The lamps are switched on, their light beaming on the picture frames dotted around the living room, each one filled with their smiling faces, or those of their families. Outside the floor to ceiling windows, the night is well established.

_ Baobei…  _ The voice rings through his mind as clear a bell and his body jerks as he looks around for the source. He knows this voice.

“Where are you….?” He manages, his mouth dry and tight from hours of non-use. His body feels like lead, heavy and weighed down as he staggers towards the hallway. He stumbles into the bathroom first, but it's empty, the air still scented with their shower gels from this morning. He goes into the next room, their closet. His hands frantically pats the wall, the room filled with light as he finds the switch. Nothing but rows upon rows of their clothes, all hanging neatly.

He turns and forces his body around, into the next room. Their bedroom.

He slumps against the door jamb as his eyes gaze across the room, resting on the rumpled sheets…

* * *

_ "Yibo, we don’t have ti-...” The rest of the sentence escaped as a gasp, much to Yibo’s delight, as he continued the open mouthed kisses along his husband’s neck, suckling gently at the junction of his shoulder and throat.  _

_ His fingers trailed down across his husband’s chest, puckering his nipple between them as he continued his assault on his beloved’s neck. _

_ A low moan filled his ears and Yibo lifted his head briefly, looking at the way his husband’s head was thrown back, opening his neck up to him, and his eyes are closed, the hint of a smile on his swollen lips.  _

_ His hand trailed further south, brushing through the happy trail he loves so much and his stomach swoops as he palmed the hardened length between his husband’s thighs.  _

_ “You’re insatiable, husband….” He growled, as he began to kiss his way down. The abs shudder under his lips, as the light chuckle rippled through his husbands’ warm body. His hand tightened slightly, but it’s enough to stop the laughter. He felt his husband's leg move to open wider, giving him room to manoeuvre himself between them. _

_ “I thought we didn’t have time?” His voice has a playful lilt, and he pressed the barest kiss to the already weeping tip. _

_ “Yibo, please…” The need in his voice is delightful, and his cock twitched at the sound. He dropped his hand to fondle his balls as he flattens his tongue, licking him from root to tip, slowly taking the head into his mouth. His reward is the moan from above, and the fingers now carding their way through his hair, scratching gently at his scalp. He bobbed his head slowly and gently, swirling his tongue around head and taking him all the way in once again, until his nose was nestled in the dark thatch of hair. The musky scent is heady, and he picked up his pace, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks. It’s not long before Yibo felt Xiao Zhan’s grip pull at his hair.  _

_ “I’m gonna… Wait,Yibo…. Stop! I’m com-“ The groan filled the room as the hot come spilled into Yibo’s mouth, spurting hard and fast down his throat. Yibo tried not to smirk with pride as he swallowed it down, and licked the softening length clean too.  _

_ He crawled up over his husband’s boneless and sated body, his palms planted either side of his beloved’s head, his hips pressed heavily against his husband's stomach. He smiled happily, knowing he caused this heavy lidded look on his face, the breath which is passing his barely parted lips in pants was because of him. He loves knowing that he can take his husband to pieces like this. He licks his lips, still tasting him there.  _

_ “You’re a menace, Yibo….” His husband grinned, his chest still heaving. The bubble of laughter escaped and he bends and kisses his beloved's lips, worrying the plump lower lip between his teeth gently before releasing it and jumping from their bed. _

_ “I know... but you love me anyway…” He replied cheekily, throwing him a wink as he walked his naked self to the bathroom. _

* * *

The floor is cold and hard beneath him, and he has a pain in his neck from leaning against the doorframe oddly. The first beams of sunlight are starting to come through the bedroom window, and Yibo wonders how long he has been there for. 

He groans as he gets his knees under him, pulling himself to his feet with the help of the doorknob. He stretches his arms high above his head, and pain twinges in his lower back.

He walks back to the living room, the lamps still lit. With a heavy exhale, he perches in the middle of the white leather sofa and reaches for his phone. It’s face down on the table. 

_ I don’t remember doing that… _ He thinks to himself, as he turns it to enter his security code. The screen is blank and Yibo frowns. He never lets the battery die and he  _ never _ turns it off… so why is it off now?

The knocking at the door breaks his thought pattern and he looks up. Someone knocks again. Loud and insistent.

“Mr Wang! Could you let us in please!?” He hears a voice yell.

“Yibo! Are you in there!? Let us in!” He gets to his feet quickly and opens the door inward. Li Wenhan and two uniformed police officers crowd the doorway, and Yibo steps back to let them in.

Wenhan is looking at him strangely, his hands gripping Yibo’s biceps a little tighter than normal.

“Yibo, I’m so sorry….” He says thickly, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat. Yibo frowns slightly but nods anyway, allowing himself to be walked back into the living room.

“Why are you here?” His voice sounds strange, rough and far away. The officers and Wenhan share a brief glance before Wenhan sits beside him, taking his hands in his.

“Didi, we’re here because of what happened to Zhan-ge yesterday…. Do you remember?” He says gently, as if talking to a child. Yibo blinks and shakes his head.

“What-“ He coughs, trying to ease the tightening sensation in his chest and throat and form the words. “What happened to Zhan-ge? Where is he?”

Wenhan looks down, hiding his face from him, and before long, Yibo sees his shoulders shake slightly. Instead, he looks to the two officers.

“P-Please….” He tightens his grip on Wenhan. “Wh-Where is my husband?” 

The officers both remove their hats, and bow politely. When they’re upright again, one steps forward.

“Mr Wang, there was an incident yesterday involving a member of the public and Mr Xiao in the underground parking area…” 

The whine was back, louder and higher than before. Yibo winces and he lets go of Wenhan’s hands, clutching his head tightly. The pain threatens to split his head apart, the memories of the day before returning with the force of a battering ram on his brain. His heart is thumping wilding in his chest and he feels it stutter and the coldness spread over him.

“Yibo!” He hears someone call his name before the blackness takes over, and he collapses against the sofa.

* * *

_ “Yibo! God, man, how long does it take to find your shoes!?” Xiao Zhan’s voice reverberates through their apartment. Yibo, sat on the ottoman at the end of their bed, pulls his Nikes on and runs to the door.  _

_ “I’m here, I'm here… Husband! Did you miss me already?” He exclaims with a grin, kissing the edge of Zhan-ge's mouth, and bounding out the door, laughing as Xiao Zhan takes a swipe at him, the car keys in his hand jangling. _

_ They waited for the elevator to reach their floor and Yibo threaded his fingers with Xiao Zhan’s, who instantly began to stroke his thumb across the top. Xiao Zhan looked over at him, his eyebrow quirked slightly as Yibo grinned back. _

_ When they got inside, Yibo dropped his hand to his pocket, sure that was where he had put his phone.  _

_ “Ahh!! One minute! I forgot my phone… I’ll be back, Zhan-ge, wait….” He shouted as he let go of Xiao Zhan’s hand and out of the elevator, jogging back to their front door.  _

_ “I’m not waiting! I’ll meet you at the car!” He heard Zhan-ge’s voice yell back as he pressed the key code to unlock the door. He didn’t hear the doors close or the chime as the elevator began its descent into the basement. _

_ “Phone… phone…. where’s my phone….” He muttered to himself, lifting the scripts they had been reading at the breakfast table this morning. Not there. Next into the living room, feeling down the sides of the seat cushions. Not there. He jogged into the bedroom, and saw the screen light up on the ottoman. _

**_My Husband_ **

_ He smirked as he answered the call.  _

_ “I’m on my way, see you in a few…” He said straight away, already leaving their apartment and pulling the door closed behind him. _

_ “Yibo, don’t com-...!” The line disconnected abruptly and Yibo frowned. He tries to ring back but the line beeps, not connecting the call. He calls for the elevator, trying to ring Zhan’s number again, but it beeps again, still not connecting.  _

_ The elevator chimed as it reached the basement, the underground parking area for the residents of their apartment block. _

**_Basement_ **

_ The automated voice announced as Yibo stepped out. _

_ He saw Xiao Zhan standing there and he smiles, raising his hand to show he’s there but Xiao Zhan isn’t looking at him. He’s looking at the figure in black, mere feet away in front of him, his hands raised and out the side, and his face pale. _

_ “I’m sorry y-you feel that way! Truly, I am! A-And I’m sorry that you think I misled you…. That was never my intention…” He hears him stutter, as he starts to edge backwards. The figure in front is stepping forward, matching him, step for step. Yibo is frozen, watching it play out in front of him, unable to make a noise.  _

_ Zhan-ge spotted him then, any remaining colour in his face gone. Only a stark paleness under the fluorescent lighting as his eyes portray the panic. _

_ “Yibo…” He breathes, his attention distracted from the dark figure momentarily. “Run…. RUN!! RU- “ There was an echo of a grunt, and Xiao Zhan’s body was smothered by the darkness. And then another, and another. Then a scream of anguish ripped through the silence.  _

_ Xiao Zhan was gripping onto the jacket of the dark-clothed figure, his eyes wide and frightened as he stared at Yibo. The figure started walking backwards, away from Zhan-ge, their shaking hands out to the side as they moaned and screamed. And then he saw it. _

_ The glint of light on metal.  _

_ He looked back to Xiao Zhan who was now on his knees, arms limp by his side. He heard him swallow thickly, heard the air leaving his lungs with a squeal as he tried to breathe. _

_ The figure turned and saw Yibo standing there. He looked at their face, partially covered by a black mask, only their eyes on show. There was a clatter as the figure dropped the - the  _ **_knife_ ** _ \- on the concrete. _

_ “I didn’t mean to…. I didn’t mean to…” He heard the person - a man - mutter as he started walking away slowly then breaking into a run.  _

_ Yibo turned back to Xiao Zhan, who was starting to list to the right, his eyes drooping heavily, the red - the red  _ **_blood_ ** _ \- Yibo realised, has drenched the front of his white shirt.  _

_ "Zhan-ge….ZHAN-GE!” He ran to his husband’s side instantly, his knees grazing the floor as he skidded to catch his beloved before he hit the ground. _

_ “I got you, baby, I got you…. I got you….” He whispered over and over, resting Zhan-ge’s back over his knees whilst fumbling for his phone, dialling emergency services. _

_ “Ambulance please, hurry… my husband’s been… “ Yibo looked down, but the sheer amount of red makes him go dizzy. He closed his eyes briefly and swallowed the lump in his throat. “I th-think, no - h-he’s been stabbed…” he choked, looking at Xiao Zhan’s face. _

_ He found his husband staring back at him, his eyes red rimmed and tears pooling in the corners. They crinkled as he smiled up at him, blood staining the inside of his mouth and teeth. He drags a laboured breath in. _

_ “Yibo…” he gasped, a small bubble of blood burst in the corner on his lips as he exhaled. _

_ Yibo cradled Zhan-ge’s face in his hand, his thumb stroking along his cheekbone softly, feeling the burning prick of tears in his own eyes as he looked down at him. He bent slightly, bringing his forehead to rest against Xiao Zhan’s, feeling the cold beads of sweat which had begun to form. _

_ "I’m sorry Yibo….” He hears the barely-there whisper, feeling the warm breath blowing against his cheek. _

_ Yibo moved one of his hands to put pressure on his chest, his hand instantly warmed by the viscous red fluid which was pouring out of his husband’s chest. The movement and sudden pressure made Xiao Zhan choke and rasp as the sensation flooded him with pain. _

_ “Don’t be sorry Zhan-ge… it’s not your fault…. it’s not your fault….Just stay awake ok….Baby! O-op… “ _

_ Yibo hiccuped as the tears fall from his eyes and splashed on Zhan-ge’s cheeks, mingling with his own tears. _

_ “Baby, please… p-please open your eyes, please….” he pleads, shaking his shoulders gently to keep him alert. Awake.  _ **_Alive._ **

_ Xiao Zhan opened his eyes again, but it’s a struggle. He reached up to stroke away Yibo’s tears, which were falling thick and fast down his face.  _

_ “D-Don’t….cry…. Baobei…..” Each word uses a strained breath, the wheeze as he tries to fill his lungs, is loud and high pitched. His eyes began to roll back, but he fought to stay focussed on Yibo. _

_ “Wo...ai...ni... Wang….Yibo….” He rasps out.  _

_ Blood is flooding his mouth and making it difficult to speak. He didn’t feel pain now, just a cool numbness throughout his body. Only his fingertips, currently sliding from their place on Yibo’s cheek, tingle. His eyelids are heavy, like there are weights attached to each of his eyelashes, forcing his eyes closed. But he didn’t want to close them. He didn’t want to  _ **_not_ ** _ see Yibo’s face anymore. _

_ “Baby, stay awake, please Zhan-ge… Stay awake…. They’re nearly here! The help’s nearly here, you’ll be ok, okay? You have to be ok…. Zhan-ge….” Yibo’s voice is filled with pain and anguish. He can hear the sirens of the ambulance, muffled but close, as if above them. _

_ He pulls Zhan closer to him, his fingers digging into his husband’s arms as he tightens his grip. His tears are still falling freely, running down his neck and soaking into his t-shirt collar.  _

_ “I love you Zhan-ge…. and you promised…” He moans, voice thick with pain as he tried to shake Zhan awake again, scared to look down and not see his warm brown eyes staring up. _

_ “...Y-Y-You p-promised to b-be with me for the r-rest o-of my l-life…. Zhan-ge…. Please….” His voice broke at the end, but he doesn’t hear it over the siren wail which is filling the concrete basement with noise. _

_ He looked around frantically, watching as the ambulance came to a stop in front of them and the two EMT’s got out. One is instantly at their side, and Yibo watched as he lifted Xiao Zhan’s eyelids open and shone a light in them, checking for god knows what. The other is beside them too now, holding a long board and a bag filled with medical equipment he didn't know the names of.  _

_ All at once, everything starts slowing down. Xiao Zhan is pulled from his arms and laid flat on the board as the ambulance crew cut through his t-shirt, plastering his chest in gauze and dressings as the other kneels by his head, threading a thin plastic tube down his throat. There’s a bag attached now, but Yibo’s eyes haven’t left Zhan-ge’s face. _

_ His skin isn't the right colour and he hasn’t opened his eyes... _

_ The gravel is digging into his knees, but all he can feel is the stickiness of blood on his legs, his hands, his face.  _

_ “Get UP!” An arm is under his, dragging him to his feet, and he is bundled inside the back of the ambulance, with Xiao Zhan strapped to the wheeled trolley. _

_ Yibo is sat in the seat beside Zhan’s legs. He reached over and gripped his husband’s left hand, the thin band of gold around his ring finger clinking against his own but the hold isn’t returned. Yibo held it tighter anyway. _

_ They’re at the hospital in no time at all, it seems, and the back doors are flung open, the trolley cradling Zhan is being pulled out by a team of doctors and nurses who jump into action immediately. Yibo started to follow them through the frosted double doors, wanting to stay by his husband’s side, but he’s stopped by a nurse in a purple uniform, who puts him into a side room instead with a pair of blue scrubs, telling to change his clothes. The door clicks behind her as she leaves. _

_ He’s alone now. He looks around, taking minimal notice of the dull peach decor and the mismatched chairs as he sinks down into a green leather wing-back.  _

_ He doesn’t like to be alone.  _

_ He closed his eyes as the panic began to wash over him, the deafening silence all around him. He gripped the chair arms tightly, his knuckles white and face pinched in a scowl as he fought it away. _

_ NO! Zhan-ge is here…, just outside, I’m not alone… He thought to himself as the panic began to subside. _

_ Eventually the fear which was threatening to overtake him wanes and he allowrd himself a second to relax. He didn’t open his eyes though, and all too soon, he felt himself drift off, his body emotionally spent.  _

* * *

“Mr Wang….Mr Wang….” His shoulder is being shaken and he groans unhappily at being woken.

Wenhan is still there, Yibo notices, and he is holding his right hand between both of his, patting it gently.

The officer who was stooped over him stands back upright and clears his throat, stepping back slightly. His face is schooled into a tight expression.

“Mr Wang, yesterday there was an altercation between a member of the public and Mr Xiao in the parking area of this apartment complex. Is that correct?” The officer behind him has a notepad out, and a pen primed and ready to take his answer down. 

Yibo’s gaze flits between them both then he nods his head, staring at the officer speaking. 

“Mr Wang, I’m terribly sorry…. but Mr Xiao’s injuries were severe and, despite the best efforts of the hospital staff, he passed away. Do you understand?”

Yibo just blinked in response. He didn't understand. What? Were they telling him his Zhan-ge was-was dead?

Wenhan squeezed his hand as he sniffed and Yibo turned to look at him.

“Didi…. Zhan-ge’s gone…” He tells him simply, his eyes red and tears rolling down his face. Yibo shakes his head dumbly, refusing to believe what he was being told. 

“N-No, he c-can’t….” The air in his lungs whooshes out of him quickly and he blinks hard, turning back to face the two officers standing in front of them. He shakes his head again, swallowing hard, refusing to believe what he was hearing. How could it be that he was dead? 

The officer cleared his throat and continued.

“Mr Wang… A man arrived at the police station last night, saying he was the one who had stabbed Mr Xiao. He said it was because he had cheated on him with you. Do you know a Mr Jin Yuchen?”

Yibo reached his free hand to his throat, feeling like it was closing off. Wenhan squeezed his other hand tightly.

“Officers, do you have to do this now? Yibo’s just lost his husband and you’re asking him about the man you suspect was the murderer… Can this not wait?” Wenhan sounds drained, as if his life force has been taken suddenly, whilst he held together Yibo with his hands.

Everything around him fades to nothing as Yibo’s gaze fixes on the photo on the wall. Xiao Zhan is standing in the fore-front, lips pressed against Yibo’s jaw as Yibo grins widely, his left arm holding his body close, his newly placed wedding band just visible as he held Xiao Zhan’s shoulder. The sky, just visible in the background, was the clearest blue.

It was from their honeymoon, he remembers, in Italy. Behind them, hidden by the angle of the camera, was the Duomo di Milano. Yibo remembers how excited Xiao Zhan was at the prospect of walking around the gargantuan cathedral, seeing the sights, soaking up the beautiful architecture and the stunning art which laid within.

It made his chest ache with pain, and his throat burn.

“Didi…” Wenhan was in front of him again, and Yibo felt the pain bubble up from his chest as he began to cry. His emotions were too much for him to control; the pain, the fear, the anguish, the emptiness all rent from his body in one long scream, then another and another, before Wenhan pulled him into a fiercely tight hug, trying to keep him from falling apart completely, his screams and moans muffled into Wenhan’s shoulder.

“ZHAN-GE!” His body shook violently with the force of his grief, but too numb to stop. 

* * *

The days that followed passed in a blur. Yibo didn't move out of their bedroom, his body curled around Xiao Zhan’s pillow, holding it tightly as if it was the only thing sustaining his life. 

He didn't eat or drink; the prospect of doing so made his body shake and stomach roil with nausea. His sleep was reduced to fits and starts, and the dark circles which were making a permanent residence under his eyes were proof of his reluctance to close them, not wanting to be faced with the sickening image of his husband’s body, hurt and dying in his arms.

His family was here, he knew. He could hear his mother’s voice down the hall, talking quietly to someone, but he wasn’t sure who. He didn't care who. If he never spoke to anyone ever again, it would be too soon, he thought.

The Breaking News bulletin which had popped up on his screen a few days before, publicly confirming his living nightmare, had resulted in his cell phone being thrown at the wall, the handset now lying silent and shattered, much like the remnants of Yibo’s heart in his chest. He didn't care that he had disappeared off the face of the earth or that his management couldn’t get a hold of him.

He wanted his Zhan-ge. That was it. 

He heard the bedroom door open with a soft swishing noise and a click as it was closed again. He didn’t move as he felt a weight sit behind him, or when he felt his mother’s small hand run down his back comfortingly.

“Yibo… Xiao Zhan’s father is here...” He moved his head back slightly, still staring fixedly out the bedroom window at the darkening sky. “He wants to talk to you about the funeral…”

He closed his eyes, his face twisting into a grimace as though the words were knives in his back, causing him physical pain.

He didn't want to talk to them about it.

His retreat to their bedroom had happened immediately after the phone call from the coroners’ office. He listened to their empty condolences, to them explaining that the cause of death would be  _ Homocide - Stabbing _ . They led the conversation, explaining the next stages of their investigations and what would be reported to the police who were leading it. 

When he eventually asked when he could arrange to collect his body, the line had gone uncomfortably quiet. Then a small cough as they tried to find the best way to tell him that his marriage wasn’t ‘technically legally binding' and without a filed and notarised Guardianship application, he couldn’t bring him home, and that his parents, as legal next of kin, had been informed. 

His last string of sense snapped and he retreated wordlessly, leaving the handset on the table whilst Wenhan, who was watching from the kitchen, followed him with his eyes as he disappeared down the corridor and closed the door on the world.

“The police have told them that Xiao Zhan can be released to them tomorrow… and they have asked if you want to be there when he arrives at the funeral home?”

His mother continues quietly, her hand never ceasing its rubbing motion on his back. He curls tighter around the pillow, his body shaking as he tries to stop the sobs from breaking free of his throat.

Of course, even his own parents couldn’t take him home, never mind him and his inconsequential claim of being his husband.

He feels his body being gathered up into his mother's arms and he goes along with it, needing to be enveloped in her familiarity whilst the rest of him was so adrift. 

“I think you should be there, Yibo. It can give you some closure, at least.” Her words aren’t meant to sting, but they do. He nods against her shoulder, trying to show he will try at least. She acknowledges him, rocking him from side to side, murmuring ‘my poor baby…’ into his hair. 

* * *

The banging on the bathroom door startles him out of his reverie, the water from the shower head still falling over his head.

‘No tears today’ he has been warned. Something about his Zhan-ge’s soul getting lost on the way… He’s not sure of that, of anything really, but he agrees anyway. He’s not sure he can still cry, given the amount that have fallen from his eyes the last few days.

He shuts off the water and steps out, wrapping the towel around his hips, and wiping the mirror down to shave the shadow of stubble which had grown whilst he had been in bed.

He would look perfect for his Zhan-ge today, he resolved, and carried on through his once normal routine of skincare.

He passed into the bedroom where his black suit was laid on the ottoman, his shoes polished and to the side. 

He dressed silently, styled his hair in the way Zhan-he liked it, keeping it as natural looking as possible, but curled round on his forehead. He slipped his feet into the shoes his Mama had picked out, and picked up the watch from the dresser, snapping onto his wrist. He fingers the white cloth band which had been beside it carefully before pulling over the top of his suit jacket.

His chest is tightening again, and he breathes purposefully, willing his emotions under control.

“I can do this…. I can do this…’ He closes his eyes, hand resting on the doorknob, focussing on this mantra as he steps out into the apartment for the first time in days. 

There had been a faint murmur of people talking in the lounge which silenced when he reached them.

His mother and father were both there, along with Wenhan, and his manager, and Xiao Zhan’s manager. They all looked at him, no words spoken, for they knew no words would help.

Yibo clears his throat. “Sh-Shall we go….?” He asks, and they all nod at him, getting to their feet and making their way to the exit. 

They’re in the escalator, nearing the ground floor; Yibo’s mother had already assured him that they wouldn’t be going into the basement. 

He could hear the muffled screams of the crowd which had gathered there. He didn't even know his address was public knowledge, but apparently it was, judging by the sounds of the people outside. As the doors opened, the bright daylight caused him to squint a little. He looked forward, seeing the entrance doors being held open by two men in grey suits and sunglasses. Beyond them, two black saloon cars, their windows darkened for privacy, he assumed. 

The two managers stepped out first, followed by his parents, Wenhan was behind him, hand on the small of his back.

“Don’t worry Yibo, I’m here….” He muttered quietly, urging him forward.

He stumbled forward, catching and righting himself before he walked outside. But something had changed, and he looked up at the crowd, all held behind barriers behind the cars.

The silence was  _ deafening _ . 

He stopped moving, looking out at the faces in the crowd. Fans of them both stood side by side, dressed in muted colours, but wearing bands on their wrists of red and green.  _ Their colours _ he thinks. 

The country’s media stands in the middle but even they are still and silent, photo cameras held limply by their sides, the video cameras directed down at the floor. 

Yibo gazes at each of them, noticing the tears, red rimmed eyes, their reverent silence. He pulls himself tall and walks purposefully between the two cars, much to the shock of his mother and managers.

He stops in front of the crowd. 

And  _ bows. _

He doesn’t know how long he stayed there for. A few seconds? Thirty? His eyes are lined with unshed tears as he stands back upright, and watches as the crowd returns his bow.

He manages a small smile, before clambering into the back of the front car, tipping his head back to prevent the tears from falling and willing the pain in his heart to pass. 

The cars pull away to leave and the screaming resume, chants of ‘Yibo, Zhan-ge Ai Ni!’ Filling the air and his ears.

* * *

The drive is a short one, thankfully, though Yibo spent it with his eyes closed. He could feel his Mama’s hand holding onto his, a silent reminder of the support he had with him.

“Yibo… We’re here, son…” His father’s deep tones come from the front of the car. He opens his eyes and looks out. He sees them standing by the doorway.

Their faces were pale and solemn, contrasting against the black outfits they also wore. He was thankful, at least, that they had allowed him to wear the same. 

He climbed out of the car and walked around slowly, coming to a stop in front of them, standing behind his parents who were greeting Xiao Zhan’s with comforting handshakes and hugs.

He swallowed thickly as he raised his eyes to look at them. He could see the clenched jaws on both their faces as they also fought to keep their tears at bay. He bows to them both, afraid to speak yet. They both step forward and place their hands on his upper arms, bringing him back up.

He looks at Xiao Zhan's father, who is patting him gently on his arm, nodding his head but not meeting his eyes. He looks down at his mother, who is beaming up at him, eyes crinkled, just like Xiao Zhan’s face used to.

His breath catches at the reminder and he tries to smile back, instead managing to pat her hand.

Wenhan was there for them all, he realised, so they could be together in their grief without interruption.

He steps forward with a small cough.

“He’ll be arriving in a minute. You should step inside….” He intones, and they all nod and do just that. They’re guided into a receiving room, with two heavy-duty doors open wide. 

They all watch as the non-descript silver van reverses back, and the funeral home staff open the back doors once the vehicle is turned off. 

He watches as they manoeuvre the trolley, with the wooden casket atop it, towards them.

Yibo stops breathing as it reaches him. He’s not sure he wants to but he finds himself unable to stop.

He looks inside…

….And it looks like he is just asleep.

Yibo gasps for air, the tears falling unbidden from his eyes as his legs tremble beneath him, threatening to collapse.

He is instantly held up by Wenhan and his father. He looks over the top of the casket to see Xiao Zhan’s father holding his mother up in a similar way. Their tears, also flowing without permission.

He looks back down at his husband, and is surprised again by how peaceful he looks. He truly does look like he is just sleeping. He knows its cosmetics and years of knowledge, but Yibo is thankful anyway. His eyes drift down to the hands of his beloved, folded neatly on top of each other, his left hand on top, the thin gold band of their commitment to each other gleaming brightly.

He feels it spread across his face - the memory of happiness as he slipped that ring into place. He smiles briefly, tasting the salt from his tears on his lips. 

“Wo ai ni…” He whispers, closing his eyes. 

* * *

6 Months Later...

_ “.... Judge Zhou delivered his verdict, a life imprisonment with a minimum of 35 years to be served before parole consideration, this afternoon following the unanimous guilty verdict by the jury. _

_ Mr Xiao’s family were present in the courtroom as they have been from the very start of these proceedings, and they were seen to cling onto each other in support as the sentencing was passed. The defendant, Mr Jin Yuchen, bowed to the judge and in the direction of Mr Xiao’s family before being led away by court officers to commence his imprisonment. _

_ Outside the courtroom, Mr Xiao’s widow, Wang Yibo, had this to say…” _

The newsreader is replaced by a video of him, filmed earlier that day, as they were leaving court.

_ “We are grateful for the efficiency of the police department during their investigations, and to the process of the law through the courts which has resulted in the verdict today. We are happy that justice for Xiao Zhan has been achieved. _

_ We still feel his absence everyday. That the actions of one person snatched away the bright light from our lives is a burden we must bear, but one that Mr Jin must bear also. The outpouring of support and love from people all around the country and beyond has been a balm for us during our darkest days, and whilst we still have a long way to go before we feel the loss less keenly than we do now, we hope you can continue to use these sentiments towards each other…. Thank you…” _

“Did I sound unemotional?” Yibo groans, muting the TV with one hand and rubbing the other over his face as he inches back into the sofa.

The tinny laughter from the cellphone on speaker beside him irritates him slightly.

“No Yibo… You did not sound unemotional…. Did you hear what they called you though? On TV no less?” Comes the chuckling response of Wenhan and Yibo growls.

“I know… I’m surprised they were allowed to air it, to be honest…” He yawns loudly and slaps his hands to his thighs.

“I’m going to bed…I told Mama I would go visit her after the court case was done. My flight leaves at 8 and I haven’t packed anything yet….” Wenhan’s laugh comes over again as he bids him goodnight and the call is ended.

Yibo lifts the remote up to turn the TV off and is surprised to see Xiao Zhan’s face smiling down at him. He unmutes it quickly, leaning forward, eyes fixed on the screen.

He recognises it as the interview he had done following the wrap on his last drama, white T-shirt beneath an open pale green shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was smiling happily, his eyes crinkling into half-moons, his bunny teeth on show for all to see. 

_ “... What would you say to your fans who love you?” _ Asks the interviewer at the end, and Yibo smiles as he watches his husband look pensive for a moment before grinning widely.

_ “I would say to my fans and those who love me just this; Thank you for supporting me in all I do. I love you and I hope I will continue to make you proud. Just remember to use the love you hold for me in your real lives too and make a difference to those around you. That way, everyone wins….”  _

Yibo chuckles, despite the tears rolling down his cheeks as he pauses the screen right at the moment that Xiao Zhan looks into the camera. He feels the bloom of warmth spread through his chest as he sighs. 

“I miss you, ge….So much...”

He lies with his head on the arm of the sofa, just staring at the screen, a small tired smile on his face as his eyes close.

_ I’m lost without you here…. but I’m trying… _ . Is his last thought before sleep overtakes him.


End file.
